


I'm a Star but You're an Icon

by zosma



Category: EXO (Band), NCT (Band), SHINee, SuperM
Genre: Comeplay, D/s undertones, Fingerfucking, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Multi, Rough Oral Sex, spit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 21:49:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21168416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zosma/pseuds/zosma
Summary: “Tell me more about how you want to apologize.”Taeyong grumbled stubbornly, wanting to stay like this, maybe nap, forget about the stupid insistent part of himself that demanded he prove himself, earn his forgiveness.“Sucks, I know,” Ten snorted, “But if you don’t tell me, I won’t help you.”





	I'm a Star but You're an Icon

**Author's Note:**

> This is a ty centric foursome pwp with established taekai and ten. Internalized homophobia is referenced in the past. Feat very slutty ty, Very married taekai and chaotic switchy pisces of my heart ten. Warnings for cancer/cancer and slyth/slyth dynamics >:)
> 
> Title from the absolute queen of bottom anthems King Princess-- Hit the back. Wrote this with it on repeat lmao go stream.

Ten was propped against the headboard of his bed, toes tucked under the covers and sketching at his ever-present notebook. It was Taeyong’s room too, but he still froze in the doorway, fingernails biting into the painted wood of the door frame. Waiting to be invited in. 

It went on for too long, Ten’s brows arched, eyes fixed stubbornly on his work, not yet willing to give Taeyong what he was so blatantly asking for. It has Taeyong’s stomach clenching in nerves, curling into the door frame more, thinking of slipping back out. 

“So you’re ready to talk about it.” Ten said, his voice airy and lilting as usual, but it cracked into Taeyong’s chest like thunder, stunning him. 

“Sorry-- I mean,” Taeyong gulped back the rest of the apology that’d been burning in his throat for the past week. “If that’s alright, yes.” 

Ten sighed, pulling his glasses down off the swoop of his nose, folding them against his notebook and pen and plunking it all down onto his bedside. “It took you long enough, I don’t get why you dragged it out.” 

Taeyong shuffled between their beds, sitting gingerly at the edge of his own bed. His hands going to the careful turn-down of his bedsheet and smoothing it flat, just like he had this morning. He didn’t know why either, really.

“I’m still mad at you.” Ten added lightly. “But I’m kinda sick of it, so I’m glad you’re ready now.”

Taeyong’s head snapped up to search Ten’s face, hating the hot, sour clench under his ribs but letting it wash through him all the same. Ten was _mad_ at him. It’d been obvious, but hearing him say the words still had him crumpling with guilt all over again. 

It’d been easier to stomach with the other members, the ones who couldn’t tell the difference between his nerves and his all-consuming anxiety. They knew him, sure, but just barely, and Taeyong kept it that way. It was easier than being able to feel their disappointment, like Ten’s. It had him pulling his knees up to chest, heels balanced on the edge of his bed so he could press his forehead into his kneecaps, hard. 

“Taeyong, we’re just talking. Breathe.” 

He wanted to laugh, but his chest was suddenly too tight for it. That was the problem-- he didn’t want to just _talk_. “It’s not enough. That’s-- that’s not enough,” he stuttered out. 

Ten’s eyes were sharp, watchful, and tinged with a familiar tenderness now. This is why he came to Ten. Ten understood, better yet he empathized, and yet he demanded anyone taking up his time spill their guts at his feet, even while he held himself untouchable. 

It’d been infuriating at first, the way Ten’s lightest touch had Taeyong’s chest split open, because Ten got it, but he didn’t need this the way Taeyong did. Ten didn’t need someone to force his hand. He said what he felt, even when it was ugly. He took what he wanted, even when it was far too much, maybe especially then.

“Talking’s not enough, is that right Yongie?” 

He did laugh then, because there it was-- just a few words soft spoken from Ten and he’s bared at his feet, no point in hiding now. 

“Just saying it, it’s not enough. Saying ‘I’m Sorry.’” Taeyong grimaced, hating the way the words tasted in his mouth-- hollow, useless in the face of the desperate, ravenous well of guilt living inside him. 

“You want to prove it.” 

It’s soft, soft, but not a question. And after weeks of being so withdrawn, the shock of being abruptly, thoroughly _seen_ has him shuddering. His heels slipped off the edge of his bed and thunked to the floor. It should be embarrassing, probably, but there’s just no room for it anymore. 

“Yes,” Taeyong breathes, “I need them-- you-- I need you to know I’m not like that. I don’t. Think like that. Even back then, I was so stupid, Ten I was so stupid. I hated myself so much.”

He’s babbling, a little stubborn, a little vindictive, like he can get Ten back for making him so exposed by demanding Ten make sense of it at its most tangled.

“Shhh, baby, come over here.”

Taeyong’s knees nearly buckle on the two tiny steps it takes to shift from his bed to Ten’s, his whole body tingly with the promise of being held.

Ten settled back more firmly against the headboard and spread his legs wide so Taeyong could crawl between them and he did, he crowded close fast and graceless, pushing his back hard against Ten’s chest and then falling abruptly still. “Thank you.” 

“Even if I’m mad, this is okay. You get that, right?” Ten said softly, wrapping his arms all the way around Taeyong and squeezing.

Truthfully he didn’t. It was confusing, the way Ten expressed exactly what he felt, even when it wasn’t true or important or what he ultimately put into words. “I’ll try to remember.”

Ten hummed behind him and Taeyong curled himself up, trying to fit even smaller in the cradle of Ten’s limbs. Even still, Ten just _got it, _Taeyong marveled, as Ten immediately tightened up his hold, pushing in against Taeyong hard. Holding him in, holding him down and safe and _here. _ Taeyong went perfectly limp with a shuddery breath, his head rolling down to rest against Ten’s forearm. 

“Awww, that’s really good, baby, that’s perfect.” Ten praised, a smile in his soft voice. “I want you to tell me more about how you want to apologize.” 

Taeyong grumbled stubbornly, wanting to stay like this, maybe nap, forget about the stupid insistent part of himself that demanded he prove himself, earn his forgiveness. 

“Sucks, I know,” Ten snorted, “But if you don’t tell me, I won’t help you.” 

Taeyong took a moment to consider his options. He imagined going alone to Taemin and Jongin and recoiled, the anxiety Ten had so cleanly banked in his chest roaring back to life.

“I don’t want to do it alone, please.” Taeyong gripped at Ten’s forearm, twisting to show him just how much he did not want that, his eyes wide. 

“I know, I _know, _baby, you don’t have to.” Ten teased him, jostled him deliberately, knocking him clean out of his train of thought.

Taeyong let that sink in, feeling a little embarrassed about the whiplash of his feelings, everything right at the surface for Ten. 

“C’mon, you’ve thought about it.” Ten teased, leaning down and blowing out a hot breath into Taeyong’s hair. Taeyong let the shiver that tore through him shake him loose again. 

“We can start with me. “ Ten said indulgently. 

It made Taeyong smile and want to tease him back. “Okay.”

Ten just huffed, smiling. “Ohhh-kay… so you want me there. Obviously. Do you need me to be _this _for you, with the hyungs?” Ten jostled Taeyong in his arms, one hand coming up to brush the fluffy purple of his hair away from his face while the other squeezed pointedly. 

_Do you need me to take care of you. _Taeyong’s chest lurched and the word was out of his mouth before he’d even considered-- “No!” 

Ten froze, his hand stilling at the roots of Taeyong’s hair, and hummed, his fingertips scrubbing down to his scalp.Taeyong’s heart stumbled over itself, his face hot, wishing he could take it back but that’s not how it works with Ten so he just waits. 

“That surprises me, to be honest.” Ten cooed, still scritching at his scalp, his fingers moving too fast, too randomly to be soothing while Taeyong’s heart is jackrabbiting. “It’s okay though, that’s fine with me if you need something a little more--” 

Ten’s hand fists in his hair and he _yanks _and Taeyong’s head snaps back, his vision whites out, his whole body a hot, tingling rush and he can’t help the choked off moan that rips from his throat. He can’t help the way his legs kick and flail out in shock, pushing him up into Ten’s grip, knocking him back against Ten’s chest. 

_Yes, yes like that._

-

Ten doesn’t say anything to him, but Taeyong can tell he’s done it, talked to Taemin and Jongin about him. It’s what they agreed on, and Taeyong trusts Ten, but it’s nerve-wracking all the same, when Jongin touches him, Taemin looks at him, and it's just so different.

“Right behind you, Taeyongie~” Jongin coos, his voice low and gentle, but it makes Taeyong jump, because Jongin is pressing a warm hand clean across the small of his back as he squeezes past him to get through the maze of their dressing room. 

It should be nothing, it is nothing, compared to the way Ten had taken him apart last night, or the way Jongin had hauled Mark into his lap when they piled onto the flat white couches of their rental to watch themselves appear on television. But it’s the closest Jongin’s ever gotten to Taeyong before and it’s overwhelming in the face of what Taeyong has asked for. It feels like a _yes_, easy and warm and accepting.

With Taemin, it comes a little slower, a little more carefully. Taeyong is puttering in the kitchen, music in his ears. It’s late, and there is barely any food to work with, but it’s relaxing to work in such a clean, bright space and he needs that, badly. Maybe the managers will eat it, the muses, eyeing the box of pancake mix, the tin of fancy bitter sipping chocolate, and mis-matched jars of spices he dug out of the pantry.

Muffins? Taeyong bends down to rummage through the lower cabinets for a tin, and when he pops back up, Taemin is smiling across the shiny surface of the kitchen island. 

Taeyong jerks back and pulls out his earpods, ducking a little stiffly in greeting. “Hi, sorry, Taemin-hyung,” 

“You look busy!” Taemin smiles, hair shower-damp and eyes squished. “Can I just grab--” he points behind Taeyong for the tea kettle like the kitchen is Taeyong’s domain and he wants permission to come inside it. 

“Oh! Would you like a cup of tea?” Taeyong offers, his stomach tightening in a weird way, hoping that Taemin will say yes, that he’ll allow Taeyong to do this for him. 

“Is there tea?” Taemin tilts his head a little, “I was just going to get some hot water.” 

Taeyong straightens up, his mouth dropping open in a pleased little smile. “I always bring tea. Do you want buckwheat or honey ginger, Taemin-hyung?”

Taemin’s smile is expectant and maybe a little indulgent too. “Buckwheat, please.”

Taeyong nods and turns heel, scurrying to his room to collect his tea. Before he returns, he takes a moment to make sure his pouch of teabags is organized, zipped up neatly.

Taemin’s settled onto one of the stools on the kitchen counter, messing with his phone, and Taeyong goes straight to the kettle and switches it on. The mugs in the rental aren’t great, thin white ceramic with an awkwardly round handle. Taeyong pulls two down and brings them to the sink, rinsing and then filling their mugs with hot water to warm them. He’s not sure what to say, so he keeps quiet, chewing the inside of his lip. 

“Are you going to bake something?” Taemin calls gently, offering a smile again and nodding to the ingredients on the counter. 

“It’s getting late, making tea will be enough for tonight, I think,”

“I distracted you, didn’t I!” Taemin giggles unapologetically and Taeyong’s kind of glad he doesn’t try to apologize for it. 

“I should thank you, then, I’ll get more sleep this way.” 

“Only... if you want to,” Taemin says, and the tone of his voice is a little reaching, the words a bit too slow, “or need to... say it.” 

Taeyong’s wide eyes snap to his across the kitchen island, searching and intense because that sounded like-- sounded like something _else _entirely. 

The kettle rumbles in its base and then clicks off. Taeyong doesn’t move. 

“I do… need to say it,” Taeyong all but whispers.

“Even though I don’t need to hear it?” Taemin replies too quickly, like he knew already, what he wanted to say. 

Taeyong’s face twists a little at being led blindly like that. This is why he went to Ten first. 

“Yes, Taemin-hyung, I want…” He huffed, frustrated by his game, “I want it, but it’s okay if you don’t.” 

“No no, I just wanted to double check with you, beforehand,” Taemin giggles, dropping all pretense in a way that has Taeyong reeling, even if it’s what he wanted. 

“Oh, okay,” Taeyong is certain he’s blushing now, fingers tangling in on themselves. “Thank you, then, Taemin-hyung.” 

Taemin’s cheeks squish in a big smile and he nods towards their warmed teacups. “The kettle’s ready, Taeyongie, when you are.”

Taeyong jerks, a breathy little noise escaping him as he busies his hands pouring their tea. The easy warmth in his chest is building, burning, slipping down his spine and pooling in his guts instead. He’s really going to do this, huh. 

-

Nothing happens at all, for a while, until it’s happening all at once. 

It’s their last night in LA before heading back and splintering apart to return to their schedules. It’s too early to sleep, but Taeyong’s in bed, turning his phone over and over in his fingers, trying not to think about what's going to happen when he gets back to his team. When he has to be Leader again. It hits him how fucking lucky was to have the luxury of being able to melt into the background, of withdrawing and letting Mark handle the interviews. Let Baekhyun’s cues prompt him to speak. He needs to get ahold of himself.

The door cracks open and Taeyong hears a quiet shuffle, what sounds like Ten hissing, but his back is to the door and he’s not curious enough to look. 

“You awake, Taeyong?” Ten calls softly, padding closer. 

Taeyong groans in the affirmative, stretching and looking over his shoulder to show Ten his sleepy pout. Ten takes that as the invitation it is and settles himself in the notch behind Taeyongs knees, his hands light on his hip. The touch feels nice and Taeyong wiggles back into it, imagining the way his ass probably looks in the sweatpants he’s wearing, hitching his hip a little higher, the dip of his waist a little lower.

“M’sleepy, Tennie.” Taeyong whines, indulging himself in the distraction. 

“Do you want to take a nap?” Ten’s fingers smooth over his hip and into the dip of his waist. It makes Taeyong feel kind of proud, pleased that Ten’s paying attention to his body, right where Taeyong drew him to. Where he feels soft and pretty and attractive.

There’s a quiet shuffle by the door and Taeyong snaps his head around to look past Ten, startled. The door is propped open, the space filled by Jongin, hunched over like he was trying to be quiet and failing. 

“Oh.” Taeyong chokes. It’s now. The lazy sleepiness drains alarmingly quickly from him, and he scrambles to sit up, his heart pounding to keep up. It’s going to happen _now._

Taemin ducks under Jongin’s arm and smiles warmly at Taeyong, but speaks to Ten. “Baekhyun took the boys out for sightseeing and ice cream. They’re filming it, so we’ve got the place to ourselves.”

“Sweet!” Ten chirps, beckoning them over with a sharp smile. “Thanks hyung!” 

“Hi Taeyongie,” Jongin calls quietly, circling to the other side of the bed and flopping down. “I didn’t hear, do you wanna take a nap?” 

Jongin’s face is soft today, his mouth pouty and wide, surrounded by a dark shadow of stubble. He looks ready to curl up for a nap himself, but Taeyong doesn’t want to nap anymore, he wants to scrape his skin against Jongin’s sandpaper stubble until he’s raw and stinging pink. The thought slams into his brain with no warning or filter, and Taeyong swallows thickly to keep himself quiet. He _wants._

When he imagined it in his head, it was different. A bit harsh, punishing. Like he was getting exactly what he deserved and no more. He was supposed to be earning his forgiveness after all, and how do you do that if not through suffering? 

The reality of it is worse. Jongin grabs Taeyong’s arm and yanks, arranging him on top of his chest in an effortless way that makes the pit of Taeyong’s stomach clench and then Jongin is kissing him through a grumble, and the high, lilting peals of Ten and Taemin’s laughter are ringing through the room and Taeyong feels abruptly like he might faint.

Jongin kisses like slow motion, like thick crystallized honey, like he might yet nod off for that nap at any moment and Taeyong feels frantic, caught and fluttering against him. He hauls in a breath, stutters and stops and tries again to slow down enough to meet the slow, soft drag and press and part of Jongin’s mouth. It’s useless. He can’t. 

Jongin’s hands are pressed heavy, right under the curve of Taeyong’s ass, quite simply where they’d naturally fallen. It makes Taeyong want to arch his back, moan a little, encourage Jongin’s big warm hands up onto his ass but it’s so humiliatingly out of pace that it makes his head spin. He feels abruptly desperate_, _because Jongin’s kissing him too tenderly, too slick-slow and Ten and Taemin are ignoring him entirely, chatting quietly against the headboard like this is _nothing _and this is really not how he imagined this would go. 

“You should breathe more.” Jongin’s chest rumbles under him and he does move his hands, but it’s to Taeyong’s back to smooth up and down his spine. Even that is sticky slow, each pass taking forever and dragging the fabric of his tee shirt up until Jongin’s hand is against his skin instead.

He does, he takes a few deep breaths against Jongin’s neck. His skin smells like warm resin, like he wore cologne half a week ago and it clings to him just barely. 

“You guys having fun?” Ten asks, his voice light and teasing. Taeyong turns, cheek smashed into Jongin’s shoulder, so he can look at them. 

“He’s just _so slow_… I feel like I’m going crazy.” Taeyong lets his voice go whiny and his mouth pout cutely before he finally arches his back, draws their eyes where he wants them and then rolls himself down against Jongin’s hip. He’s hard and it feels nice, getting a little friction, but it’s the way Ten’s eyes narrow, dark and sharp, the way Taemin’s smile drops open, the way he can feel Jongin’s hands spasm against his back, that has him moaning. 

“I thought this was supposed to be about what we want, baby,” Ten says, reaching out to push the purple fluff of Taeyong’s bangs out of his face. “And Jonginnie wants to go slow.” 

Taeyong’s teeth click together loudly and he swallows around the sinking feeling in his gut. He’s so out of control, so completely humiliated and _desperate_ to be wanted, to be used up and useful and good and then forgiven. “I’m sorry… please,” he swallows again, his voice pinched, “please tell me what you want, how you want me. I need this.” 

Ten snorts, bringing his thumb down to brush over Taeyong’s mouth. “You are such a little slut Taeyongie.” 

Taeyong shudders, hard, his whole body tense against Jongin’s and nods, dropping his mouth open for Ten’s thumb, just as Taemin chokes out a belated, shocked bark of laughter, or maybe it’s alarm. 

It makes Taeyong’s head spin, Ten’s words echoing through him-- such a slut, such a little slut, yes, he is, he is and his mouth is already so wet, split pooling around his tongue and he lets it leak from the corners of his mouth so he can focus on rolling his tongue against the pad of Ten’s thumb in perfect little waves. 

“Uhhhm I think I’m done going slow now, hyung.” 

Jongin’s hands are clamped at Taeyong’s waist and when Taeyong twists to look at him, his eyes are clearer, open and hot and aimed straight over Taeyong’s head but, fuck-- he’s pushing Taeyong’s hips down to meet his in these tiny little grinds,his dick hardening against Taeyong’s thigh.

Taeyong feels dizzy with relief, like he’s not alone, like things are starting to finally go according to plan and he lets himself groan, long and loud, around Ten’s thumb. 

“Let’s get you into place, then, come on,” Taemin says, and Jongin’s eyes track him tightly, until Taeyong can see him too. “Like we talked about.” 

Jongin nods, but doesn’t move, and Taemin just coos, reaching out to trace a line of drool back up Taeyong’s chin to his lips. His touch is maddeningly light, ticklish, where his lips are already starting to swell and tingle.

Taeyong doesn’t want to move either, doesn’t think he can, frozen with all three of them finally touching him. 

Taemin shatters the moment wide open, swats at where Jongin and Taeyong’s hips are still connected in a jerky, rocking little chase for friction, catching them both. “Come on, let him up, Jonginnie” Taemin giggles. 

Just as easily as Jongin had pulled Taeyong onto his chest, in a whirl Jongin hauls them both up and off the bed, Taeyong’s head spinning as Jongin squats down and plonks him on his ass on the fluffy white rug at the foot of his bed. It’s the only hint of softness covering the stark shiny flooring and Taeyong sinks his fingers into it gratefully. 

Jongin settles behind him, his chin hooked heavy over Taeyong’s shoulder. He’s so big, his chest curving around Taeyong’s frame and making him sink forward with his weight.

“You’re too heavy, you’re gonna fold me in half,” Taeyong giggles, letting Jongin’s weight flatten him in demonstration. Jongin grumbles, wrapping his arms around Taeyong’s waist and pulling him back up straight. 

“Maybe later, Taeyongie, but only if you’re very lucky,” Ten sing-songs, circling towards them. “For now, we want your mouth.” 

Taeyong straightens up immediately alert, holding a pretty arch to his back, licks his lips twice to make sure they are nice and wet. He is so beyond ready for that. His eyes are watchful and focused on Taemin and Ten, fascinated when he sees Ten dip his head just a touch, letting Taemin come first. His dick throbs fiercely in his sweatpants and Taeyong has the urge to shush it. He’s busy. He needs to focus. 

Taemin stops in front of them and smiles sweetly, reaching past Taeyong’s cheek to pet Jongin’s jaw, his palm grazing Taeyong’s ear. Taeyong catches sight of Taemin’s eyes and his gaze skitters away, he pants through his open mouth. It’s too much, too open and beautifully, plainly full of love to even look at. Taeyong’s whole chest aches with it and he imagines for a second that it’s because he’s strung between them, like the force of their love is pierced straight through him.

Taeyong feels a little out of his body, when Jongin shuffles them both closer so Taemin’s standing between their legs and reaches up to the button of Taemin’s soft, washed out jeans. He can feel his heart jackrabbiting in his chest and he wantsto reach out and touch the strip of skin Jongin exposes when he pushes at Taemin’s tee shirt. He wants, but he’s really not sure if he’s allowed, if he’s even really here, between them.

“God that’s hot.” Ten groans, bumping into Taemin’s back and draping himself over his shoulders, grinning down at Taeyong. 

Taeyong snaps back to time and place and looks up in amazement as Ten uses the little height he has on Taemin to mirror the way Jongin is pressed up behind him and scoot Taemin even closer. More than Ten being big, it’s that Taemin is incredibly slight, his hips narrow and easily eclipsed by Ten’s. 

“Do you still want his mouth, hyung?” Ten coos, turning to nose behind Taemin’s ear.

Taeyong doesn’t actually hear Taemin’s answer, because he’s whining, loud and rattling in his own ears. “Can I? Can I, please.” 

Taemin’s face is slack with arousal, his cheeks pink, his pupils blown and intense and it’s such a change from his usual squished up smile that Taeyong feels his own cheeks flush, looking away and hoping. 

“Yeah, you can,” Taemin says lowly, and it sets off a flurry of movement; Jongin’s hands drop to paw at his jeans, shove them down his hips, while Ten hums, delighted, and pushes Taemin’s boxers down too and Taeyong-- god, Taeyong’s mouth has been dropped open for what feels like hours at this point, empty, waiting for this. 

It’s instant, the way Taeyong goes perfectly, beautifully boneless when his mouth is filled. He can’t help it, feels like his whole body is one big thrum of relief, of pleasure, with how good the heat and weight of Taemin’s dick feels against his tongue, the way his lips are stretched just a little around the tip_._ He pulls a breath in through his nose, opens his throat up and waits for Taemin’s hips to kick foward, to fuck him like he deserves-- hard and thoughtless and punishing.

It doesn’t come, and Taeyong whines, looking up at Taemin, hoping this isn’t another game. He couldn’t bear it right now. 

“Are you alright?” Taemin pants, smiles encouragingly, pets Taeyong’s jaw gently, so crushingly gentle Taeyong chokes on it. “This is what you wanted, yeah? This is okay?”

Taeyong is going to vibrate out of his skin, he’s going to evaporate into nothingness, he squeezes his eyes closed and tries not to scream because if he doesn’t get fucked right now he might actually cry for real.

“Oh my _god_, he’s fine!” Ten whisper-shouts, pressing a smacking kiss to Taemin’s cheek before sinking gracefully down to Taeyong’s side. Taeyong whines again, feels Taemin tremble, and looks pleadingly, imploringly at Ten. Ten who _gets it. _Ten who _understands. _

Ten, who threads his fingers tight into Taeyong’s hair, and unceremoniously fucks his face onto Taemin’s dick. Taeyong does cry, then, moaning and sobbing with relief, because Taemin seems to get the message, his hips stuttering forward and pushing all the way into Taeyong’s mouth again, and again. 

“He just needs to be fucked, he’s fine, he’s gonna be just fine,” Ten says, quiet and soothing, still push-pulling Taeyong’s head in counterpoint to Taemin’s hips. It’s chaotic, overwhelming, Taeyong can’t catch any kind of rhythm or know when to sneak a breath. It’s perfect.

Jongin lets out a low, chuffing groan against Taeyong’s neck and it makes tingles race down his spine, snapping again into an arch. Jongin’s hard, he can feel it now, right at the small of his back. He tries to hitch himself up, give Jongin something pretty to rut against, but he can’t really, like this. Jongin pulls at his hips though, levering them up so he can grind Taeyong’s sweatpants between his cheeks to make room for his dick. It’s such a fucking tease that he whines, wiggling as much as he can, pinned between them.

Ten and Taemin seem to come to an agreement, and fall into an easy rhythm, fucking Taeyong’s mouth steadily. It’s gentle, really, and Taeyong steels himself to match Taemin’s pace, to show off his clever tongue and techniques instead, since he’s finally able to pull some suction, to coordinate his tongue enough to roll it up along the underside of Taemin’s dick. He loves this, loves the salty tang of precome, the way he can feel Taemin’s whole body tremble when he pops his lips around the head and lavs at the slit, chasing each drop. 

When Taemin’s knees start shaking with each thrust forward, his legs straining tight, his dick kicking against the roof of Taeyong’s mouth Taeyong whines in distress. He wants Taemin’s come in his mouth so badly his throat aches with it, but it’s too soon, he’s not done, he wants so much more. It’s not about what he wants, he reminds himself forcefully.

“Don’t swallow it, okay baby?” Ten says, flitting in closer and leaving trailing little touches along Taeyong’s face, his neck, his arms, following them with soft kisses. 

Taeyong kind of hates that, his brow furrowing, but he doesn’t have a chance to pout about it because Taemin’s hands are joining Jongin’s in his hair, tangling and pulling as he lets out a low, pinched wine and this is it. Taemin fucks into his mouth abruptly too slow and too hard and shuddery, and Taeyong opens wide, makes his tongue into a perfect little cup to catch each wet pulse of come Taemin gives him, moaning around his hot mouthful, throat carefully closed. 

“Oh that’s perfect, that’s perfect,” Ten whispers, licking wetly at the hinge of Taeyong’s jaw. 

He feels weighed down by it, heavy and suspended, even when Taemin pulls out with a shiver and turns to sit heavily on the edge of the bed, gasping. Taeyong doesn’t know how to move, his head tipped up and mouth open, full of Taemin’s come. He whines, loud and needy and desperate, looking for Ten. 

He crowds close on his knees, pressing in between Taeyong’s legs and it’s such a relief he sags. Ten’s hands push up under his shirt and pet over his sweaty skin, his touches light and random as ever, tickling over his ribs, his nipples, his belly. 

“Did that feel good, Yongie?” Ten asks, ducking close to lick at a bead of sweat tickling Taeyong’s neck. 

Taeyong’s not sure if he’s allowed to close his mouth. To swallow. To look at Ten. So he just nods a tiny bit, his hands reaching out to grip at Ten’s thighs to ground himself as he puffs out hard breaths through his nose. 

“Hmmmm. Taemin hyung was so sweet with you.” Ten hums, fingers trailing up and over Taeyong’s adams apple, to his chin, and then his bottom lip, slick with come.

Taeyong strains a little to see Taemin, sitting on the edge of the bed still. He has a lazy, sweet smile on his face and his underwear pulled back up, but his shirt pulled off. “You looked perfect between us, you did so well.” He calls softly and Taeyong’s heart leaps up into his throat, thudding wild and pleased. His mouth curves into an open, toothy smile too and the feeling of Taemin’s come still pooled against his tongue has him shuddering, pushing his tongue out to feel it trickle back down. He knows it should be gross, disgusting, even, but he can’t even pretend to feel that way in the face of the giddy delight that’s racing through him. It’s proof of what Taemin’s telling him, that he was good, that it’s true. He wants even more.

Ten’s fingers finally snake their way past his lips and dip inside, two of them, curling onto his tongue and Taeyong shivers, dips his chin down enough to close his mouth around Ten’s knuckles and suck wetly. It’s filthy, sticky sloppy-wet and Taeyong pushes his tongue gleefully between Ten’s fingers to spread Taemin’s come thoroughly around. 

“Fuck… you really like that.” Ten marvels, his other hand coming to grind where Taeyong realizes with a start, he’s still so hard and dripping. It’s immediate, automatic, his mouth dropping open with pleasure, his hips rocking up into Ten’s hand and then it’s too late, when he feels the hot mess start to pour over his chin around Ten’s fingers. 

“Oh Taeyongie, now you’re all messy.” Ten coos, eyes sharp and fixed where his fingers are fucking through the spit and come leaking from Taeyong’s mouth, spreading it over his lips and encouraging it to spill down his chin and neck. 

Taeyong pouts a little, shoulders slumping in, and pushes his tongue up to roll and flick around Ten’s fingers, enjoying the last of it. 

Ten laughs, pulling out his fingers and grabs the hem of Taeyong’s shirt. It’s pulled up and off and Taeyong shivers, feeling the come and spit smear across the hollow of his throat. 

“How’re you feeling?” Ten asks, suddenly sincere while he strips out of his own shirt.

He clears his throat delicately. “Good, I feel good, Tennie. Want more.” Taeyong’s voice comes out rough and slurred, it’s a little startling. He’s a mess already. 

Behind him, Jongin chuckles abruptly and Taeyong remembers he can relax, lean back into Jongin’s chest and rest for a moment. 

Ten stands up to pull off his pants and Taeyong’s eyes latch onto the strong curve of his thighs in front of him, his mouth watering a bit pathetically. He’s tired, heavy from being dragged between Taemin and Jongin’s push-pull, so he just reaches out, his fingers grabbing half a foot away from Ten. “Lemme feel, Tennie.” 

“Oh? You wanna touch now?” Ten grins, shucking off his tight little undies and cocking his hip out in a way that Taeyong recognizes from dozens of photo shoots, for the way it makes the long curve of Ten’s hip and thigh immaculate and graceful.

“It’s understandable.” Taemin whispers, clears his throat, color high on his cheeks. “It’s just like your dancing, is all…” he trails off like he’d like someone to interrupt him but no one does. “You’re… you look strong, but relaxed, smooth. Pretty.” 

“Oh, thank you, hyung,” Ten says and it’s too soft, for the way he’s bared naked except for where he glitters with gold and silver along his ears, his throat, wrists, fingers. 

Taeyong nods enthusiastically, pout exaggerated as he redoubles his grabby hands. “Please?” 

“I suppose you’ve been good.” Ten muses with a laugh stepping in close enough for Taeyong to touch. 

He hums happily, going immediately for the pretty, muscled slope of Ten’s quad. He’s smooth and hairless all over, including here, and Taeyong wants to rub his whole body against him like a cat. Jongin reaches around to feel too, squeezing appreciatively. It makes Taeyong and Ten both giggle. 

“You ready for me, Yongie?” Ten asks, rings flashing on his fingers as he strokes his dick a few times, his fingers pinching together to sweep over the tip. 

Taeyong’s incapable of playing coy and groans, neck limp as he rolls himself up to sitting straight again, mouth dropped open expectantly. He always wants to suck Ten’s dick. It’s so pretty.

“Yeah, I thought so.” Ten chuckles, stepping closer and painting the tip of his dick sweetly around Taeyong’s lips, still slippery with Taemin’s come. Taeyong frowns, chasing Ten’s dick in a stupid little loop that has Ten positively cackling, but holding still long enough that Taeyong can lean in and suck him down in one go. 

“Oh fu- ohhh fuck, Yongie.” Ten hitches forward, hands gripping hard in Taeyong’s hair and he feels very accomplished, grinning around Ten’s dick, uncaring if his teeth catch. This is familiar, easy, he knows the game with Ten. 

Taeyong closes his eyes and pushes himself down hard on Ten’s dick, forcing it into his throat a few tries later, gagging himself wetly and then drawing back with a happy moan. 

Behind him, he hears Jongin sputter, hears Taemin letting out a breathy “Oh.” and Taeyong just preens, pushing down again to choke himself on Ten’s dick. 

“Taemin-hyung was so sweet with you, you did so good baby, you went at his pace the whole time.” Ten says, his voice pitched a little performative, like he’s saying it for Taemin too and the breath Taemin sucks in is fast and loud and telling. 

Taeyong huffs loudly around Ten’s dick, petulant. He appreciates the recognition, he does, but he’d rather be gagging. 

“Yeah, I know, you deserve it, don’t you.” Ten giggles, finally threading both hands into Taeyong’s hair and holding him perfectly still, his thumb coming down to angle Taeyong’s jaw precisely before he’s snapping his hips fast and hard, fucking straight into Taeyong’s skull too rough for Taeyong to do anything but dissolve into a warm, wet fuckhole. 

It’s so easy to get lost, like this, his last wisps of thought bouncing lazily between gasping in the occasional wet, hitching breath and keeping himself from earnestly gagging. He floats, his body comfortably tingly, heavy and boneless for Ten to use. This, this is how he imagined it would go. 

He’s not sure how long it takes, but eventually Taemin stands back up, wanders over to watch, and Taeyong stops clutching desperately at Ten’s thighs for a moment to reach out for him. Taemin puts a warm hand on the back of Taeyong’s neck and he melts again, sucked back under.

“He’s so hard…” 

It’s Jongin, sounding amazed, his fingers slipping over Taeyong’s hip to the wet spot where he’s leaked clean through his sweatpants. Taeyong keens, high and desperate at the top of his throat and Jongin laughs, startled, at the reaction he got. 

“He loves this, it’s his favorite.” Ten pants back lightly.

Jongin doesn’t say anything else, just leans back and wiggles his fingers straight between Taeyong’s ass cheeks, so bold it makes him jerk, his shout of surprise muffled. Jongin just laughs again, louder this time and delighted, and probes further, searching. Taeyong tries to pull off Ten’s dick to demand Jongin take his pants off first but doesn’t get nearly that far, because Jongin’s suddenly wrestling him up onto his knees. 

“Woah woah, what the fuck!” Ten pants, jerking back to accommodate the sudden change in position. Taeyong takes a moment to just breathe, his mouth dropped open wide, spit and come dripping down to his flushed chest.

“Oh, sorry...” Jongin says, sounding surprised himself. “I just needed more room.” 

“It’s polite to ask, darling, or at least warn him.” Taemin says, sounding amused if a little breathless. 

Ten laughs, high and tinkling. “It’s okay, it wouldn’t be the first time Taeyong’s bitten my dick… Whatcha wanna do with his ass, though?” Ten cocks his hip and pulls Taeyong in by the hair to rest against his thigh. 

Taeyong twists on his knees so he can see Jongin and Taemin. He’s curious, too. 

Jongin’s a little pouty, Taemin clearly amused. They seem to be having a whole conversation, none of it spoken, and Taeyong’s heart clenches and he turns to hide against Ten’s thigh. Whatever they decide, Taeyong will agree, because he wants nothing more than giving them anything they could possibly want from him. 

“Jongin wants to show Taeyongie how nice and thick his fingers are, isn’t that right?” 

It’s Taemin, his voice pitched sweet and suggestive and Taeyong does not have two brain cells left to consider that because the second the words are out of his mouth he's whining, nodding, bouncing his approval of the idea. 

There’s laughter, all around him, and Taeyong feels a little dick dumb but happy about it all the same. Jongin pulls him in so he can yank his pants and undies down, leaving Taeyong to work them past his knees, because he’s already palming at his cheeks, spreading and kneading and then letting them bounce back together. 

He seems curious, more than anything, delighting in Taeyong’s reactions like they are wholly unexpected and pushing further each time just to see what happens, like he’s just waiting for someone to tell him where the line is. Taeyong’s a little nervous to find out where it’ll be. 

They slot together again smoothly, Ten pushing back into Taeyong’s mouth with a slower, steadier rhythm while Jongin starts to work him open. Taemin breaks off to find lube, and Taeyong bounces a little, impatient, before he feels something hot and thick drip right into his asscrack, Jongin’s fingers trailing right behind. The only place Taeyong can look is up, so he does, and the glazed, hot expression on Ten’s face has his stomach flipping over itself. 

Jongin’s fingers are so fucking thick compared to Taeyong’s spindly, knobbly ones. It’s nearly impossible for him to fuck himself open on his own fingers, but oh-- it doesn’t matter now, because Jongin is dragging his hot spit down to Taeyong’s hole and spreading it around. Taeyong’s whole body bucks, push-pulls between them, frantic and searching and confused for one long moment. It’s too much, too fast but everything’s telling him the solution is just _more._

“Easy, Yongie,” Ten coos, steadying and gentling him with soft touches. 

Taeyong scrunches his eyes closed and concentrates, feels the way Jongin’s fingers sweep in tight little circles, all the way around his hole over and over. He breathes into it, lets his weight settle back so there’s some pressure behind them. 

When he opens his eyes Ten is smiling. “There you are, hey,”

Taeyong pulls off to lick and suck under the head of Ten’s dick for a moment and it’s then, that Jongin finally pushes a little, nudges his fingertips inside. “Oh. Ohhh.” 

Taeyong can feel it, the way he’s still a little loose, still opened up, from this morning when he’d teased himself open in the shower. If he can feel it there’s no way Jongin can’t and his cheeks burn hot, feeling for the first time, a bit embarrassed. 

“P-please, just.” Taeyong squeezes his eyes shut, hiding his hot face in the crease of Ten’s thigh. 

“What’s wrong Yongie?” Ten coos, petting into his hair indulgently. 

Jongin beats him to it. “He’s already... loose.” 

“Ohhhhhh. Baby.” Ten’s other hand flits down to press against his own dick, still slick with Taeyong’s spit and kicking against his stomach. “Did you fuck yourself today already?” 

Jongin’s finger tip retreats and Taeyong jerks back after the touch, sucking in a breath. “Yes, in the shower. I got up early, just to--” But then Jongin’s fingers are back, too hot and dripping and they’re pressing in again but it’s more, it’s more, thicker, has to be two at once and Taeyong sobs_._

His ears are ringing, his whole body stunned hot with pleasure and he doesn’t wait for Jongin to move, fucks himself back on his fingers instead. 

“Oh. That was fast.” Taemin drops a tube of lube next to Jongin, sounding a little impressed and Taeyong sobs again, circling his hips and trying to ride Jongin’s hand but it’s not working, Jongin moving his hand along with him in silence. 

“Taeyongie already had some fun today, all by himself.” Ten says, and it’s teasing, but his voice is strained. “Think you can come like this, baby? On Jongin’s fingers instead this time?”

Taeyong nods frantically, positively bucking his hips back, hard and desperate and still absolutely useless with the way Jongin just moves with him. He giggles this time, though, and Taeyong’s head whips back, eyes wide and mouth slack because, oh, he’s being _teased._

He lets himself fall slack, feels a bit like crying because of all the things they could have asked him for, this feels cruel, impossible, probably what he deserves. 

“I... I’ll try to, if that’s what you want.” He sounds so tiny, even inside his own head. 

Taemin coos and Taeyong can feel another set of fingertips, brushing lightly down his spine, skating along sweat slick skin. “Oh don’t worry pretty baby, I’m sure Jongin will be able to help you out a little bit while I distract him.”

There’s a shuffle of clothing and Jongin’s fingers jerk inside him. It seems accidental, but it still sets off little tingles that race along his limbs. He can’t see everything they’re doing behind him, but there’s a click of the lube being opened, a few slick noises, and then-- Jongin lets out a high, shuddery whine. He’s trembling, hips kicking up into Taemin’s slick grip and Taeyong can feel him shake, where they’re connected. 

“Oh, god thats--” Ten shifts his weight, his hips jerking forward and Taeyong whines. If Jongin won’t fuck his ass, at least Ten will fuck his throat.

There’s a pearly trail of pre-come slipping down Ten’s dick and Taeyong laps it up, chasing it to the slit where it’s salty and dripping wet and Taeyong moans into it, sucking him down again.

Taeyong pushes himself down fast, craving that thick clutching pressure in his throat that sends him straight out of his head, wanting to choke until he can’t breathe, until he cries and forgets the cruel tease of having his ass plugged with Jongin’s gorgeous fingers. 

“Fuck you’re desperate for it, huh,” Ten laughs, but he just sounds endeared, getting a hand under Taeyong’s jaw to help him get the angle right. Taeyong leans into Ten’s touch and tries to feel for that spark inside him, that hot tight pool of pleasure at his core that he’s been ignoring in favor of chasing down his hyung’s. 

“Don’t forget about him, darling,” Taemin says “here, I’ll help.” 

Taeyong nearly yelps, when Taemin’s slick fingers join Jongin’s suddenly, twining around them and getting everything properly slick. He teases at Taeyong’s rim, nudging and retreating and nudging again like a dare. Taeyong hates this game, hates how easy it is for him to lose. With a defeated little groan he gives in, thrusts his hips back fast and hard and-- Taeyong screams, suddenly, blindingly full, stretched over their combined fingers and finally, finally pushing back on some pressure. 

Hot tears spill over Taeyong’s cheeks and he wastes no time jerking his hips back and forth in a desperate, ugly kind of chase, bouncing himself on their fingers, fucking himself. 

“See, it’s not so hard,” Taemin says, his other hand coming up to grip at Taeyong’s hip, encouraging him to fuck himself back even faster, harder. 

“Hyunggg, that’s not fair. Me too.” Jongin whines, and Taeyong’s heart clenches, wanting to help, wanting to soothe that pinched desperate tone. His limbs are starting to feel like jelly though, thick and useless as he’s pinned between them, Ten pushing in as far as he can and stilling, letting Taeyong bounce frantic and pinned between them. 

“Give me your hand, here.” Taemin says, the fondness in his voice overwhelming. 

Taeyong pauses for a moment, clenching repeatedly over the fingers in his ass, praying they aren’t going to be taken away, before he hears the click and squelch of the lube again and Jongin sighing happily. 

Ten’s hips stutter, his dick throbbing hotly and he pulls out to stave off his orgasm and they both pant for breath. “Come on his ass.” Ten adds, breezy and cutting. 

Taeyong whimpers, hitching his hips up again and again, oh, he wants it. “Please, please yes!” He rasps, voice ruined.

The slick noises speed up and Jongin shuffles closer obediently, until Taeyong feels the hot wet head of his dick nudge and brush against his cheeks, his thighs. It has him shivering, hips kicking wildly. “You gonna come for Jongin hyung, baby?” Ten’s fingers are gentle on his chin, directing his gaze up to meet his. 

“Trying to, trying, want to so bad, for hyung.” Taeyong rambles, hitching in breaths and biting at his swollen, numb lips. 

It’s Jongin, that keens, shockingly loud, low and wrecked like his whole chest is shaking with it, his fingers spasming and jerking in Taeyong’s ass and Taeyong flings a hand back blindly, reaching for him and catching his forearm. “Hyung, hyung please, I wanna do it, I wanna be good, please!” 

“Oh, darling…” Taemin sounds punched out, weak and stunned and it’s so quiet, so chokingly intimate it can only for Jongin and then, he’s coming. 

Jongin lurches forward, curling over Taeyong’s hips as he comes and it has his dick knocking against Taeyong’s balls, slipping, jerking upward and it’s hot, Taeyong can feel the heat of each pulse of Jongin’s come pooling around his stretched out hole, coating their fingers still inside him. 

Taeyong shakes, desperate and pinned open and right on the fucking edge, his nails biting into Jongin’s forearm as he teeters there, frozen, scared to move any which way in case he ruins this perfect, perfect moment. 

Above him, Ten, who understands, who sees him, who knows always what he needs, sweeps the satiny tip of his dick against his lips and comes right onto his open mouth and Taeyong _shakes, _flies right over the edge into nothingness, comes untouched between his hyungs, just how they wanted him to. 

“Thank you, thank you thankyouthankyou--” Taeyong whispers, hoarse and choked, tears on his cheeks.

“Oh baby boy,” Ten sighs, wipes the back of his hand over Taeyong’s chin where his come is thick. “You’re okay.” 

Taeyong feels Taemin, and then Jongin, more reluctantly, pull their fingers from him. Jongin hums, chases a few lines of his come around Taeyong’s sensitive hole, pushing them inside with a curious nudge of his fingertip, then licks a few drops up in broad, wet laps, from Taeyong’s cheeks. 

He shivers, his mouth dropped open in a toothy little smile that has Ten beaming back at him, eyes curved and glittering and it makes Taeyong’s breath catch high in his chest. 

“C’mon, it’s time to get up into bed,” Ten says, reaching a hand down for Taeyong to grab onto. 

Jongin stands up with him, his hands tight and steadying on Taeyong’s waist in a way that makes him feel small. His body feels wrung out, heavy and sluggish tired, but it doesn’t matter, because his head is completely cleaned out, like he just scrubbed it wall to wall of all the gluey guilt and anxiety that’d been crowding him for weeks. It’s bliss, actually, and he bounces up onto his toes and then back down to press a wet kiss to the tip of Ten’s nose. 

“Ugh, baby please,” Ten swats at him, but he’s grinning back. “Now I have my own come on my nose.” 

“Tough!” Taeyong chirps, spinning around to face Jongin and god-- flushed and messy is a good look on him. Even so, he looks a little frozen, off-step with Taeyong’s sudden bounciness and that just makes him grin harder. He feels expansive and wants to show it off for them, finally, after weeks of balling himself up. 

“Your turn!” Taeyong threatens, and Jongin looks a little nervous for a second before he seems to remember the several inches and considerable bulk he has on Taeyong and straightens up. Jongin wraps his arms around Taeyong’s waist and hauls him up over his shoulder and he shrieks with laugher, flails for the two whole steps it takes before Jongin’s flopping him back onto his bed. 

Taeyong’s head is spinning but he’s fine with it, laughs and nuzzles into the soft pillows, stretching out his body and imagining the pretty soft lines he’s putting on display for them. 

“Want help cleaning up?” Taemin asks, and he’s got a washcloth, a pack of wipes, and Taeyong feels warm to the bone. 

“Yes please!” He chirps, reaching up a hand to push his hair out of his face and then settling back to watch. 

“Oh no, you clean up your own mess.” Ten says, flinging the washcloth Taemin tries to hand him at Jongin immediately and Jongin just pouts, fumbles the wet cloth for a moment before crawling up the bed between Taeyong’s thighs. 

Taemin settles at his side and plops the pack of wipes on his chest so Ten can also reach them. 

It’s quick work, and quiet too, and Taeyong melts between their attention, the obvious care and forgiveness that’s being pressed into his skin with each touch. 

A tear spills over his temples and Taeyong licks, bites at his lip. “Thank you for this, really.” 

Taemin leans close and kisses his cheek, lips soft and warm. 

Ten coos, a little too loud, and pushes in to press himself against Taeyong’s chest in a sticky hug. “See, you’re okay, Taeyongie. You just needed a dicking and a hug.” 

Taeyong chokes on a laugh, sniffling and wrapping his arms around Ten’s back to squeeze him close and tight. Ten just gets it. 

“And a cuddle?” Jongin sounds half asleep and hopeful, resting his big head heavy on Taeyong’s bent knee. 

Taeyong just nods, grinning sleepily. “Definitely a cuddle.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! hope you liked it


End file.
